


May I Steal Your Heart?

by vLightnDarkv



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Past Regrets, Secrets, Some angst, servant/thief au, trying to make up for mistakes, yuuri is bad at asking for help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-29 01:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12619948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vLightnDarkv/pseuds/vLightnDarkv
Summary: Victor is a noble who has grown bored of the high life and wishes that something exciting would happen.Yuuri is a thief with a dark past posing as a servant and just wants to go home.When the two meet in the home of Victor’s long time-friend, Victor finds himself oddly drawn to the exotic young man. Unfortunately, Yuuri doesn’t seem to want anything to do with him. But when Victor learns Yuuri’s secret, more importantly what drives him, he becomes determined to help him in any way he can. If only Yuuri would allow him to do so.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here it _finally_ is! The first chapter of my story for the [Victuuri Bang 2017!](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/VicturiBang2017)
> 
> I am SUPER late posting this. Between two jobs and my father in the hospital I have had almost no time to edit (hence why I only have the first chapter ready). I plan on releasing the chapters gradually, and would like to say I'll have one a week but I can't make any promises (this chapter took me FOUR DAYS to edit @.@).
> 
> So this story is inspired by [two](http://underthesamestar-art.tumblr.com/post/155814309119/i-know-i-am-unoriginal-and-i-repeat-myself-but-i) [comics](http://underthesamestar-art.tumblr.com/post/155956671509/a-small-sequel-to-this-au) by [underthesamestar-art](http://underthesamestar-art.tumblr.com/), who was kind enough to allow me to write a story based on it for this bang.
> 
> For the bang I was partnered with the amazing [raincyc](http://rainecyc.tumblr.com/), whose accompanying art I shall include once she has posted it (which should be some time soon after I post because she was waiting for me >.>).
> 
> I had a lot of fun playing with and writing this story and I hope you will all enjoy it too! And now without further adieu, on to the story!
> 
> **EDIT** NOW WITH [ACCOMPANYING ART](http://rainecyc.tumblr.com/post/167984862127/victuuri-big-bang-piece-for-vlightndarkv-for-her)!!! As said before this piece was done by the lovely [rainecyc](http://rainecyc.tumblr.com/)! ^.^

It was always the same. The same faces, the same talk, even the same music. The men stood talking of their various successes as if everyone hadn’t heard the story a dozen times before, while the woman tried to out-do one another by showing off their latest jewel or sharing the juicer piece of gossip. It was the sort of place where anyone that was anyone wanted to be, but for Lord Victor Nikiforov it was just another party he was socially obligated to attend. And he was bored.

A servant passed by, and he helped himself to a drink he didn’t actually want. It was something to occupy himself with while he pretended to be interested in the current conversation, what were they talking about again? Land? Trade? He had no idea, nor did he care enough to find out. It was all the same boring talk anyway.

“Did you hear? That thief struck again last night.”

Well, now that was a change in topic.

“No, who?”

“Lady Norrington,”

“I was wondering why she wasn’t here. What was taken?”

“Not much from what I heard. A few small pieces of jewelry and some silver. Nothing she can’t replace but…”

“The wealth she has and that’s all they took? Not a very competent thief if you ask me.”

Victor listened as he sipped at his champagne. The robberies had started about a month ago, or rather, that was the first anyone noticed things had gone missing. Thus far there had been six confirmed incidents, but only two of them reported anything of real value being taken. The rest had all been minor things. Things that were not immediately missed and easily replaced. What was even more baffling, there didn’t seem to be any connection between the victims. Age, gender, wealth, they all varied. Even the homes that had been invaded were no-where near each other, it was as if they had been chosen at random. What’s more, the thief left no trace of himself so there were no clues, no leads as to how he could be caught. The authorities were beside themselves. 

“Well I know one thing,” a boisterous voice declared.

Victor blinked and looked towards its owner, as did the rest of the party-goers. Their host, the Lord Jean-Jacques Leroy stood at the center of the room with his trademark grin. Victor had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“That thief wouldn’t dare come near _my_ house.”

“You’re not worried Lord Jean?” a woman asked.  
“Why would I be?”

“The authorities have no idea how the thief is picking his targets,” another said. “He could strike any of us.”

Lord Jean waved his hand dismissively. “Madam, I am Jean-Jacques Leroy. My family was one of the founders of this great city. If that’s not enough to deter such actions I don’t know what is.”

“If you ask me I’d say that would be _more_ of a reason to target you,” a man said.

Lord Jean gave him a look of bemused indifference before his eyes fell on Victor.

“What say you Lord Nikiforov? You family were also founders were they not? Surely you do not fear this simple thief?”

All eyes turned towards Victor, how did Lord Jean always manage to drag him into his boastings? With a mental sigh he set his glass down.

“I don’t know if fear is the right word, but I do believe caution is important. As the lady said, there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to how he is picking his targets.”

Lord Jean scoffed. “You can keep your caution. I guarantee my house is safe.”

It took everything Victor had not to roll his eyes.

“For your sake Lord Jean, I hope you’re right. Now I must apologize, I think the champagne has gone a bit to my head. Might I use your washroom?”

“It’s down that hall there,” Lord Jean said, waving his hand half-heartedly towards a hallway to his right before turning away to continue declaring why the thief wouldn’t bother him to anyone who would listen. This time Victor did roll his eyes before making his way towards the hallway.

He had been to Lord Jean’s house a number of times before, but had never ventured out of the main room so he really had no idea where he was going. Thankfully he didn’t actually need the washroom, but much longer in his hosts presence and his carefree persona wasn’t going to last. Maybe he could use his champagne ruse as an excuse to leave the party early? It was certainly an appealing idea, but then again it could give Lord Jean more reason to draw attention to him. He could just hear the man’s demeaning tone now.

“I never knew you were such a lightweight Lord Nikiforov! One glass of champagne and you’re calling it quits? Why I could drink an entire bottle and not feel a thing!”

No, he wasn’t about to put himself through _that_ , he would just have to suffer through it. With a sigh, he looked around—he might as well use the washroom while he was here. At the very least he could splash some cold water on his face to try and get his head back into things. There were half a dozen doors in the hallway around him, none of which hinted at what might be behind them. He didn’t want to start poking around Lord Jean’s house, but he wasn’t quite ready to return to the party either. Considering his  
options, he decided to try a couple doors and if he didn’t find what he was looking for he would give up. Sizing up the doors, he tried to make a guess as to which was the one he wanted but he had no idea. With a shrug he picked one at random and gave the knob a test turn, it moved easily. The door was unlocked. He supposed that was as good a sign as any he wouldn’t be completely overstepping his boundaries by going in, so he turned the knob fully and pushed the door open.

The room on the other side was dark, the only light being from the moonlight shining in through the window. Bookshelves, desk, a couple chairs—definitely not the washroom. With a sighhe started to turn away, but something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked back and felt his body go rigid, he wasn’t alone. A figure stood in the shadows just outside the cone of light shining in through the window, Victor had almost completely missed him and wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed to notice him. The intruder was slim and looked to be shorter than him, though he couldn’t tell much more beyond that. He couldn’t see the person’s face, but Victor knew he was looking at him. Victor tried to move but his feet refused to listen, it wasn’t until the figure turned towards him that he was able to stumble backwards.

“Someone come quick!” he shouted. “There’s-”

His words caught in his throat as the figure rushed towards him with more speed than Victor had been expecting. In what seemed the blink of an eye the figure had crossed the room to reach him. Before Victor could react, the other person grabbed him and pulled him to the side of the door, shoving him roughly against the wall. This close, Victor was able to see the other person a bit better, though it didn’t do him much good. The intruder was dressed in dark clothes the likes of which he had never seen before. They were almost form fitting with a hood that covered the intruder’s head, while a piece of fabric covered the lower half of his face. The only thing visible were the intruder’s eyes, eyes that were fixed intently on Victor’s own, and Victor could do nothing but stare back. The intruder’s eyes were dark in the faint lighting from the moon, if Victor had to guess he would say they were brown but there was something else about them, something unique. Something that made Victor want to stare into those eyes until he figured out what. Before he could do that however the intruder reached for something on his belt and Victor felt his blood run cold. He closed his eyes, certain he was about to die, but rather than feeling the sharp blade of a knife he felt… light-headed? That didn’t seem right. And why was he suddenly smelling something sweet? Taking a chance, he gingerly opened one eye and then the other. The intruder still had his eyes fixed on his face, watching him intently as if he was waiting for something to happen. Victor took a chance and tore his eyes away from the others gaze look at what he had grabbed. The intruder was holding a small glass vile under Victor’s nose—now he knew where the sweet smell was coming from. He looked back up at the intruder and as he did his vision became fuzzy and his body grew heavy. The intruder released him and took a few steps back, sealing up the vile as he did so. Victor swayed, he put a hand against the wall to steady himself, but it didn’t help. Darkness was creeping in at the edge of his vision, and he was powerless to stop it. He reached a hand out for the intruder, taking a drunken step towards him, intending to get a hold of him and demand to know what he had done. The intruder didn’t move, in fact he seemed completely unconcerned as he watched and waited. Victor managed another step towards him before the darkness took him fully and he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

 

“Someone get a doctor.”

“What do you suppose happened?”

“He said something about the champagne going to his head.”

“Did he even drink that much?”

Voices. There were voices around him, didn’t they know he was trying to sleep? More importantly, why were they even in his room? He tried to ask, but he was too groggy to form words, words that someone could understand anyway.

“I think he’s waking up.”

“Lord Nikiforov? Are you all right?”

Victor slowly opened his eyes. There were a dozen or so blurry figures standing above him, or maybe he was seeing double—he couldn’t be sure. One thing was for certain, his head was _spinning_ and he had to close his eyes tightly to fight back the urge to be sick.

“Lord Nikiforov?” one of the voices asked carefully. _Why_ were these people in his room?

He opened his eyes again, but rather than try and focus on the faces of the people around him he stared up at the ceiling, the solid white marble a relief to his eyes. Victor blinked. Marble? His ceilings weren’t marble. He took a chance and looked at the people around him again; men in fine suits, women in glittering gowns, clothes perfectly befitting a party… Party, the memory hit him like a slap to the face. He wasn’t home, he was at a party being hosted by Lord Jean-Jacques Leroy. In an attempt to escape Lord Jean’s over-confident boastings Victor had been looking for the washroom, but had instead found…

He sat up suddenly, eliciting gasps from the people around him. The sudden movement made his vision spin, causing him to sway and he again had to close his eyes. A firm hand gripped his shoulder to steady him.

“Easy now.”

“Lord Jean,” he said, slightly breathless. “Where is Lord Jean?”

“I’m right here.”

The voice was to his left. He opened his eyes once again and looked over as the man knelt down, looking genuinely concerned. That was something you didn’t see every day.

“Are you all right?” Lord Jean asked.

“Your study,” Victor said, ignoring the question. “There was someone in your study.”

More gasps, followed by whispers. Lord Jean glanced around at the nearest guests before turning his attention back to Victor.

“What are you talking about Lord Nikiforov?”

Victor pointed to the room in front of him.

“I wasn’t sure where I was going, so I tried that room at random and there was someone in there who certainly didn’t belong.”

All eyes turned to Lord Jean, who continued to stare at him a moment before abruptly standing and hurrying into the room. As soon as he was gone the attention returned to Victor.

“Was it the thief?”

“Did he attack you?”

“Did you try and fight back?”

“What did he look like?”

Victor leaned back slightly, holding his hands up against the onslaught of questions. He really shouldn’t have been surprised by this reaction, this incident would be enough to keep the gossipers talking for weeks! But his head was still a little fuzzy from whatever it was the intruder had done to him and he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

What _had_ he done? What had been in that vile? Victor was familiar with sleeping draughts—he used them himself from time to time when he was having difficulty sleeping—but those needed to be drunk, and usually took a little while to take effect. So what had been in that vile that knocked him out completely in less than a minute?

Lord Jean returned to the doorway just then, looking shocked and confused, all eyes turned towards him.

“Lord Jean?” someone asked.

Lord Jean didn’t respond right away, but when he did he sounded deflated.

“Someone was here… They didn’t get anything, but things are definitely moved around…” He fixed his eyes on Victor. “What _happened_

Victor glanced around as the attention shifted to him, he took a moment to compose himself before delving into the story of what happened. He left nothing out—not that there was much _to_ leave out—and as he spoke the rest of the guests were silent, some of them Victor thought had even stopped breathing. When he finished he looked to Lord Jean, whose face was unreadable as he allowed everything Victor had said to process. 

“And you didn’t see his face at all?” he asked after a while, Victor shook his head.

“His head and face were pretty well covered, all I could see were his eyes.”

Victor thought back to the thief’s eyes, how something about them had stood out and drawn him in. There had been determination in those eye, but also something else, something that Victor was still trying to figure out. Sadness perhaps? No that didn’t seem quite right, they had almost looked… apologetic. Like he was sorry for what he was doing, but that couldn’t be right either, why would a thief feel bad about breaking into someone’s house? Or was it what he had done to Victor that he felt bad about? It seemed plausible, and if that were the case then maybe this thief wasn’t as bad as many believed him to be. Victor decided to keep that thought to himself, he seriously doubted his fellow nobles would see things that way, and the last thing he needed was to be pegged as sympathetic towards a thief. Besides, even if the thief had some redeemable qualities it still didn’t excuse his other action.

“So much for your boastings Lord Jean,” a man suddenly said. “Guess you’re not as invulnerable s you thought.”

Lord Jean didn’t respond, but a twitch in his eyebrow gave away just how angry he was. No doubt in Lord Jean’s eyes the thief had made a fool of him after how he had so confidently declared that the thief wouldn’t dare try and rob him. This incident would place the man firmly in the middle of the gossip circles—a position he practically lived for any other time—for a long time. Victor felt a little sorry for him. Lord Jean could be obnoxious and unbearable at times, but he wasn’t an overall bad person. Although maybe this hit to his ego would force him have a little more tact and be less of a showboat.

The atmosphere became tense after that, too tense for a party so many decided it was a good time to take their leave—Lord Jean didn’t try and stop them. Victor decided to take advantage of the situation as well. He still felt a little groggy from whatever the thief had used to knock him out—a far better excuse than blaming the champagne—and very much wanted to go home and rest. As he took his offered coat from one of the servants he turned to his host.

“I hope you will forgive me for taking my leave so suddenly Lord Jean. After all that has happened I’m not feeling quite myself.”

Lord Jean waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes of course, the party mood was rather ruined anyway. I intend to report this incident to the authorities first thing in the morning.”

Victor swallowed down his annoyance at having been brushed off so easily, that was Lord Jean after all.

“I would certainly hope so.”

“They will most likely want to speak with you, can I trust you to tell them what happened?”

“Of course, though I don’t know how much help it will be. As I said I didn’t get a very good look at him.”

I’m sure they will take whatever information they can. And who knows, you may remember something else.”

Victor didn’t know what else Lord Jean thought he might remember but he nodded anyway.

“If they come to see me I’ll tell them everything I can.”

“Thank you.”

Lord Jean gave his own short nod and bid Victor good evening before turning his attention to another group of departing guests, who Victor noticed were paying more attention to _him_ than their host. That was Victor’s cue to get out, he knew what they wanted, and he was in no mood to entertain. Not feeling the least bit sorry about it he pulled his coat on as he made his way to the door and out into the cool night before they could disengage themselves from Lord Jean. Once he was away from the manor he drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly, he was looking forward to getting home, curling up with his dog, and putting this whole night behind him.

 

Just as Lord Jean had predicted the authorities did indeed come to speak with him the following morning. Not that Victor had doubted they would, the case of the thief was growing more and more serious, so the authorities were desperate for whatever information they could get. Unfortunately, as Victor had predicted the information he had to offer them wasn’t all that helpful, though they were intrigued by the vile of knockout perfume as Victor had come to call it—it was the best thing he could think of to describe it—and decided to check with the local apothecary to see if it was something they had ever heard of. With any luck they could track down anyone who had bought the necessary ingredients.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Victor said as they readied themselves to leave.

“Not at all,” one of them said. “This is the first real clue we’ve had since this whole mess started. Though I highly recommend you get yourself to a doctor, there’s no telling what was in that stuff and it could have some negative effects on you.”

Victor couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t think he had anything to worry about. If the thief had wanted to hurt him he would have done so rather than just putting him to sleep. He didn’t tell this to the authorities however, such rationing would likely make him look mad, so he simply assured them he would before bidding them good day and closing the door. As he stood there he wondered if maybe he _was_ a little mad. Their concerns weren’t unreasonable, but he couldn’t bring himself to be concerned. Not for the first time since last night he thought back to the thief’s eyes. Fierce and determined, he had seemed completely unfazed by Victor’s unexpected appearance. They were the eyes of someone who wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him. But there had been something else there as well, just under the surface, something that Victor couldn’t quite place. What drove him Victor wondered. What made that determination burn so brightly in those dark eyes? The items he took were easily replaced, and in most cases not immediately missed, so gaining wealth didn’t seem to be his goal. What was he after?

Victor gave his head a good shake, he was putting way too much thought into this. A thief was a thief. Sooner or later he was going to slip up, get caught, and that would be the end of it, his reasons hardly mattered. Right? Victor let out a sigh and turned away from the door, he needed to get his mind off this. Fortunately, he had plans later that day so hopefully that would act as a distraction. But first, breakfast sounded like a good idea. Pushing all thoughts of the thief and his eyes from his mind he made his way towards the dining room, wondering what the cooks had prepared today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Penny for your thoughts?”
> 
> Victor blinked and looked over at his friend who was regarding him curiously, his head tilted to the side. He realized after a moment that he had been staring at the coffee table rather intently.
> 
> “Well… I know this is going to sound crazy, but I get the feeling that I’ve seen Yuuri somewhere before.”
> 
> “And here I thought you were so captivated because he was the most stunning creature you had ever seen.”
> 
> “Christophe…” Victor said flatly.
> 
>  
> 
> Or: Victor ponders, Yuuri panics, and Phichit has to come to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it finally is! Good lord am I glad to be done with this chapter. @.@ I knew I was aiming high when I said I'd like to release a chapter a week but yeesh. Sorry for the delay on this, life was very unkind and kept me busy, and then I had a mishap where I lost all the edits I had done to a certain point and had to start all over. I wanted to cry. Especially since many of the edits were complete re-writes (there were many bits of this that got re-written which is also why this took so long).
> 
> But! All of that is in the past and the second chapter is finally here! This one is a bit more interesting than the first (at least I think so) so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Oh oh! Almost forgot! The lovely [art piece](http://rainecyc.tumblr.com/post/167984862127/victuuri-big-bang-piece-for-vlightndarkv-for-her) for the story done by the wonderful[rainecyc](http://rainecyc.tumblr.com/)! Didn't have it at the time of posting the first chapter (it's now been edited to include it) so you get to see it now! I absolutely love it! ^.^

“I’m so disappointed I missed all the excitement last night.”

So much for a distraction. Word of what transpired at Lord Jean’s party had spread faster than Victor expected. He was barely through the door of his longtime friend Christophe Giacometti’s home before the man was at his side bombarding him with questions, wanting to know everything and demanded Victor not leave a single detail out. Victor withheld a sigh and requested they at least go to the sitting room first. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, the noble district thrived on gossip and Christophe tended to soak it up like a sponge.

“I wish I _had_ missed it,” Victor said with a sigh. He had just finished recounting the events of the party for his friend as a servant poured them each a cup of tea. Christophe was practically pouting because he hadn’t been there to witness it first-hand. “People will be talking about this for weeks.”

“Oh you’re over-exaggerating,” Christophe said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s not as if _you_ were the one caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Lord Jean is the one who will have to deal with the backlash. I’m sure by now the gossip mongers have already forgotten that you were there.”

“Hm, I suppose you’re right.”

“Although…” Christophe said as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose they could always spin it to suggest you and the thief were in cahoots with each other.”

“Don’t even suggest something like that, it wouldn’t be out of character for any of them to do it.”

Christophe let out a hearty laugh. “I’m just teasing. Everyone knows you’re too much of a scatterbrain to pull something like that off.”

Victor rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea.

“Quite a bold move though wouldn’t you say?” Christophe asked when the silence had stretched out between them. “He was almost asking to be discovered sneaking into a house full of people like that.”

“Maybe he thought the party would work as a distraction,” Victor said with a shrug.

“Or maybe he’s just cocky. Thinks he won’t ever get caught so he doesn’t care who’s around.”

“I don’t know about that…”

Determined yes, cocky… That didn’t seem quite right. Though what he was basing this judgement in character on he had no idea. It wasn’t like he had actually talked to the thief, and the thief certainly hadn’t seemed concerned when Victor stumbled upon him, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was cocky. All that told Victor was that he had a calm head on his shoulders and wasn’t easily fazed, which really wasn’t a bad trait to have. Of course, that didn’t explain why he had decided to try and rob a house that was occupied by a few dozen people

…

He was over-thinking things again, why did he care whether or not the thief was cocky? The only thing he should be thinking about that night was how lucky he was the thief hadn’t been more bold, things could have definitely turned out a lot worse than they had. And maybe Christophe was right, maybe the thief _was_ over-confident in his abilities, how else could one explain sneaking into a house full of people? Victor was unaware of his friend watching him curiously and was only pulled from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke, although not to him.

“Ah Yuuri! Come here for a moment please.”

Victor blinked and looked at his friend to find his gaze focused on something past him. Curious, he turned in his seat and looked back to see a young man enter the room and make his way towards them. The young man was dressed in the same attire as the rest of Christophe’s staff though Victor couldn’t recall having ever seen him before. Drawn to the movement the young man’s attention shifted to him and when their eyes met he abruptly froze and his eyes went impossibly wide. Victor tilted his head to the side curiously, what was with that reaction?

The young man stood completely rigid, his eyes darted about the room as if he were searching for an escape while his hands twisted the cloth he was carrying in obvious nervousness. Victor found his actions to be quite odd, surely he wasn’t that intimidating? He tried to give the young man a reassuring smile to let him know he had nothing to worry about, but the young man didn’t seem to notice. The longer he stood there the more Victor expected him to turn and bolt back out of the room.

“It’s all right Yuuri, no need to be afraid,” Christophe suddenly spoke, his voice gentle as if he were trying to calm a spooked animal. “Victor here is a friend of mine, he means you no harm.”

Jerking out of his clear panic the young man, Yuuri, brought his gaze back to focus on Christophe. Victor glanced back to his friend to see him smiling gently towards Yuuri, waiting patiently for the younger man to be ready to move. Looking back to Yuuri, Victor saw him swallow, give a small, hesitant nod, and then finally continue forward across the room until he was standing in the space between their chairs. Turning so that he was fully facing Christophe he dipped forward into a low, respectable bow.

“You… need something Gi-co-metti-san?” he asked slowly, struggling a bit with Christophe’s last name.

Victor’s curiosity was piqued instantly, that was an accent he had never heard before.

“Not specifically, but since you were here I wanted to introduce you. Yuuri, this is Lord Victor Nikiforov. As I already mentioned he’s a good friend of mind. Victor, this is Yuuri Katsuki, the newest addition to my staff.”

Yuuri straightened and visibly hesitated before turning to face Victor, Victor looked him over carefully. He wasn’t quite as young as Victor first thought, maybe only a few years younger than himself. His slim figure—accentuated perfectly by the cut of his uniform—and soft features gave him a much more youthful appearance. Victor brought his gaze up to take a closer look at Yuuri’s face and felt his breath catch in his throat. From a distance Yuuri hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary, probably the type that was easily lost in a crowd, but up-close Victor could see just how mistaken his was. Raven black hair was slicked neatly back, giving off an air of professionalism, and he stared at Victor with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. What he had first thought to be brown was actually a rich, warm caramel that stared at him from behind a pair of simple glasses. Victor had to resist the urge to reach up and remove them, wanting nothing to impede his view of those stunning eyes.

The clearing of a throat made them both jump, in unison they looked towards Christophe who was watching them with the most amused smile Victor had ever seen. He was definitely going to hear about this the moment Yuuri was dismissed from the room. Feeling his face grow warm he looked back towards the younger man almost at the same time as Yuuri was looking back towards him. He just caught a glimpse of Yuuri’s own cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink before he was hurriedly lowering himself into another deep bow.

“Gomena- S-sorry… I… Is nice to… be meeting you…”

Like before he spoke slowly, like he wasn’t entirely sure of the words he was using. It was easy to guess that Yuuri wasn’t very comfortable with English, which only made Victor all the more curious. Where had he come from? It had sounded like he started to speak in his native tongue, but the aborted word was not in any language that Victor was familiar with. There was much about Yuuri to learn.

Speaking of, Yuuri was still bowed low and Victor belatedly realized that he was probably waiting for Victor to say something. Mentally kicking himself for being to thoughtless he put on his most charming smile.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Yuuri.”

Yuuri lifted himself out of how bow and once again their eyes met, Victor continued to smile but Yuuri still looked uneasy. It was becoming blatantly obvious he didn’t want to be in the room, but of course he couldn’t leave until he was dismissed. After a minute of silence had passed between the three of them Christophe seemed to come to the same conclusion and took pity on the poor boy.

“That will be all for now Yuuri, thank you.”

If Victor hadn’t already been watching Yuuri he would have missed the brief look of relief that crossed his features. By the time he turned to Christophe and dipped into another deep bow the look had shifted to one of neutrality.

“Yes Gi-co-metti-san” he said.

He stood and turned to Victor, offering him the same bow before making his way towards the doorway and out of the room. Without thinking about he Victor turned in his seat to watch him go, his eyes lingering on the doorway for another minute after Yuuri was gone before turning back around. Christophe was watching him, when he had Victor’s attention again he raised an eyebrow as an amused smirk played at his lips.

“What?” Victor asked.

“Oh nothing.” His tone suggested there was definitely something, but he didn’t elaborate. “Exquisite, isn’t he?”

“That’s one word for it… Where is he from?”

“Would you believe Japan of all places? Came here about a month ago.”

“Japan? What in the world is he doing all the way here?”

“What does anyone leave home?” Christophe asked with a shrug. “He came here looking for work. I think he said something about his family, though I can’t be entirely sure. He can understand English well enough, but his ability to speak it, as you heard, needs a lot of work. I suppose that’s why he was recommended to me, since I already have such a diverse staff.”

Victor resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he highly doubted that had anything to do with Yuuri being sent his way. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Christophe had a tendency to hire servants that were pleasing to look at—the more exotic the better—and Yuuri certainly fit that criteria. It was a wonder Victor had never noticed him before considering-

“Hang on. Did you say he’s been here a month? I’ve been here at least a dozen times in the last month, how am I only just now meeting him?”

“I’ve been giving him time to adjust. He’s rather timid and extremely shy, he’s only just started to get accustomed to the rest of my staff.”

Victor nodded, that could certainly explain Yuuri’s reaction towards him—anyone would be on edge when meeting someone they hadn’t been expecting to meet. And if the person already had a tendency towards nervousness… Yet Victor couldn’t help feeling that that wasn’t quite right. Yuuri had certainly been nervous, there was no question about that, but there had been something else as well. The way he had looked at Victor had almost looked like… recognition. Yuuri had been surprised because he recognized Victor, but how could that be? Victor was certain he would remember meeting someone like Yuuri, and yet now that the thought was in his head he felt that there was something vaguely familiar about the younger man.

“Have you ever sent him into town?” he asked suddenly, Christophe shook his head.

“Goodness no. The shop owners would never have the patience for a foreigner who can barely speak English, he’d get eaten alive.”

Victor furrowed his brow in thought as he gave a thoughtful hum, that was certainly true enough. The shop owners were notorious for giving foreigners a hard time, many wouldn’t even allow them access to their shops unless accompanied by someone of nobility. And any shops that did admit them almost always over-charged them because they knew they could get away with it. It was despicable and under-handed, but no one seemed too bothered by it to try and change it.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Victor blinked and looked over at his friend who was regarding him curiously, his head tilted to the side. He realized after a moment that he had been staring at the coffee table rather intently.

“Well… I know this is going to sound crazy, but I get the feeling that I’ve seen Yuuri somewhere before.”

“And here I thought you were captivated because he was the most stunning creature you had ever seen.”

“Christophe…” Victor said flatly.

“Well I don’t know what else you want me to say. You yourself just said that this was your first time seeing him here, and he’s never been to town so there’s really no wat you could have ever seen him before.”

“I know…” Victor sighed. “But I just can’t get the thought out of my head. _Something_ about him was definitely familiar, and the way he was looking at me I got the impression that the feeling was mutual.”

“Are you saying you think Yuuri recognized _you_?” Christophe asked, eyebrows raised high in surprise. Victor nodded.

“I think so.”

“Hm… Well now that is interesting. I simply brushed his reaction off as being uneasy around someone new, but now that you mention it… Perhaps I should ask him about it because now you’ve got me curious.”

“Oh, no there’s no need to go through all that. Potential recognition aside Yuuri was definitely nervous to be around me, and I highly doubt asking such an awkward question will help with that. I’m sure it will come to be eventually.”

Christophe seemed to consider him a moment and then nodded.

“Very well, I’ll leave it go for now. But I hope you figure it out soon because otherwise the suspense may very well kill me.”

Victor rolled his eyes, Christophe always had been one for the dramatic. Although he was still very curious as to why Yuuri seemed so familiar to him he knew obsessing over it wasn’t going to reveal any answers to him. For now, the best course of action was to just let it go and let it come to him when it was ready, wasn’t that how it usually worked? Stop thinking about it and it would come to you when you least expected it? So that’s just what he was going to do. Mind made up he focused his attention back to his visit with his friend, groaning internally when Christophe bought the conversation back around to the party last night. He was not going to easily be allowed to forget about that.

 

Yuuri made his way briskly through the manor. He wanted to put as much space between himself and the sitting room as possible, and it took everything he had not to break out into a run. His mind was racing, unable to believe what had just happened. What was he doing here? Did he know? Was he here to turn him in? Were the authorities on their way to the manor now? Should he make a run for it? These questions ran through his head in rapid succession, each one putting him more and more on edge. Before he knew it he reached the kitchen, having not been aware of where he was even heading. A few other servants were there milling about, chatting idly and generally relaxing between duties. Of course there would be others here. When there were no tasks to perform the kitchen was a favorite spot for them to relax so long as it wasn’t right before a meal. This was the last place he would be able to calm down and gather his thoughts. Eyes turned to him briefly, a few offering him kind smiles of greeting before going back to their conversations, completely oblivious of his current distress. Only one set of eyes remained on him, and their owner’s face broke into a broad smile.

“Hey Yuuri!” he called chipperly.

Phichit. He _would_ have to be here. Yuuri quickly forced on a smile, but Phichit clearly wasn’t fooled as his smile faded and his brows knitted together in concern.

“Are you all right?”

“I…”

Yuuri glanced to the other servants, though they weren’t looking at either of them he was sure they were listening.

“I okay,” he said.

He needed to find somewhere else to go, somewhere there was no one else around. But before he had a chance to move Phichit stood and crossed over to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him further into the kitchen. Yuuri stumbled behind him before catching his balance.

“P-Phichit-kun!” he cried in alarm. “Nanishiteruno?”

Phichit ignored him as he dragged him across the room towards the door to the store room. He yanked the door open, practically throwing Yuuri into the room before entering himself and pulling the door closed with a loud thunk. Yuuri caught himself on a barrel, took a moment to regain his wits, then rounded on Phichit.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he hissed. Phichit crossed his arms.

“You were about to make a run for it,” he said with a shrug. “And I knew you weren’t about to talk with anyone else around. Well they’re not around, so talk. What’s wrong?”

They had only known each other a month but Phichit was already starting to know Yuuri better than he knew himself. It was rather unnerving.

“It… It’s nothing…” he said as he looked away. “I’m fine…”

“Then why did you look like you had seen a ghost when you came into the kitchen just now?”

Yuuri didn’t respond. Phichit was already way more involved in this than he wanted, he didn’t want him involved further. But Phichit wasn’t about to give in.

“Should I get Master Giacometti?”

Yuuri’s head snapped back towards him. “No!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

Yuuri fixed him with a hard stare, silently warning him to back off, but Phichit firmly stood his ground and stared right back. The two stood in silence for a long time, each attempting to out stubborn the other. Ever since Phichit had learned Yuuri’s secret the younger servant had done everything he could to be as involved as possible, much to Yuuri’s dismay. It wasn’t that Yuuri didn’t appreciate the gesture, but what he was doing wasn’t the sort of thing one wanted others involved in, if Yuuri were ever caught… Yet even that wasn’t enough to deter Phichit’s enthusiasm and Yuuri was left to constantly worry about not only his own wellbeing but Phichit’s as well.

When the silence between then had stretched out for an unreasonable about of time Phichit raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Yuuri had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“You do know I’m just going to keep bugging you until you tell me, right?” Phichit asked. “Or did you forget that we share a room?”

Yuuri felt his resolve crack and then crumble at those worse, just once he wished he could get Phichit to leave something alone. Averting his gaze, he let his shoulders slump in defeat as he let out a dejected sigh.

“He’s here…” he said quietly.

Phichit tilted his head to the side.

“Who’s here?”

“… The noble from last night…”

Phichit furrowed his brow in confusion before his eyes went wide in understanding.

“The one you had to knock out?”

Yuuri nodded. Phichit exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Wow… What are the chances of that? Who is he?”

“I don’t know. Victor… something. I was a little too busy panicking to pay attention to his name.”

“Nikiforov?” Phichit offered.

“I think so? Yeah that sounds right.”

“Huh.”

Yuuri sank against the barrel he had caught himself on earlier and buried his face in his hands.

“This is bad.” His voice was muffled by his hands. “Really, _really_ bad. Why is he _here_?”

“He and Master Giacometti are good friends, he’s here a lot actually.”

Yuuri peeked between his fingers. “How much is ‘a lot’?”

“Mm… two or three times a week? I think he’s here more than his own home.”

Yuuri groaned and covered his face again, Phichit went to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” He lowered his hands and looked at him. “No, I only broke into a nobleman’s house with the intent to rob it and knocked out one of his guests. And now that guest is in the sitting room of the house I work in. No, not bad at all.”

He pushed away from the barrel and began pacing, his mind working in overdrive.

“I’m going to have to leave, go into hiding. But if I do that then I’ll never… Oh I can’t believe this is happening. All this time I’ve never even come _close_ to getting caught, and now this.”

“Yuuri.”

“I’m such an idiot. I should have left as soon as I realized there was a party going on, but no. I told myself it would be fine. Everyone would be too busy enjoying themselves and there would be no reason for anyone to be wandering around.”

“Yuuri.”

“ _Why_ was he there? Who goes nosing around another person’s house when there’s a party going on? I mean… Okay yeah, I was, but I wasn’t a guest! He shouldn’t have been there, why was he-”

“Yuuri, stop!” Phichit cried and grabbed his shoulders firmly, stopping him in his tracks. Yuri blinked and looked at him startled. “You’re working yourself into a panic and you don’t even know for sure you have anything to worry about. Plus, you’re making me dizzy. Now just breathe and think, did Lord Nikiforov say anything to you?”

Yuuri was silent a moment before speaking. “Well… No not really. But-“

“Did he act like he recognized you?”

Another pause. “No…”

“Your face and head were covered last night? And you weren’t wearing your glasses?”

“Yes, but!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. Even if you were up close and personal, without your glasses you look like a completely different person. Plus, it was dark, and if he couldn’t see most of your face then I really can’t see how he could have possibly recognized you. Don’t you think the authorities would have been here by now if he had?”

Yuuri lowered his gaze to the ground in thought, Phichit did make some good points. As much as he hated having someone else knowing what he was up to, at the moment he had to admit it was helpful. Had Phichit not been there to talk him down he would likely be backing his things and planning his escape this very moment. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths—Phichit released his shoulders. When his panic subsided he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and offered a weak smile.

“Thanks Phichit.”

Phichit grinned. “Any time! Now come on, it’s nearly lunch time and Agatha won’t be too happy to find us hiding in here. And don’t worry, I’m sure the next time you see Lord Nikiforov he’ll barely even notice you.”

 

He did notice. It had been a few days since Yuuri’s meltdown in the store room, and he had all but pushed the whole ordeal from his mind. So when Lord Nikiforov came around for a visit he thought nothing of it, that is until he brought the tea that Master Giacometti had asked for and found the silver haired man staring at him. From the moment Yuuri entered the room he could feel the man’s eyes on him, though Yuuri could tell he was trying to not be obvious about it. So much for Phichit’s theory.

“Thank you Yuuri,” Master Giacometti said as he set the tray on the table between the two. Yuuri nodded and set about serving them.

It took everything he had to keep his hands steady as he poured the tea, his eyes focused on the stream of steaming liquid. Had Lord Nikiforov somehow recognized him after all? Was he going to bring attention to him here? Or would he wait until Yuuri left the room to alert Master Giacometti? Would he have time to get away before-

Yuuri quickly forced those thoughts from his mind, Phichit was right, there was no way this man could possibly know he had been the intruder at the party. He needed to calm down. Though that was difficult to do with the man boring a hole into the side of Yuuri’s head with his gaze. His nerves were one edge and he could feel his mask of calm slipping with each passing moment, he needed to get out of there _now_.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri nearly jumped out of his skin as Master Giacometti’s voice broke through his thoughts. The teapot slipped from his hands, smashing to pieces on the table, and splashing him with hot liquid. He cried out in pain and alarm as he recoiled backwards while the other two men jumped to their feet. Maser Giacometti hurried to Yuuri’s side.

“Yuuri, are you all right?” he asked.

Yuuri looked at him then looked back to the mess he had made. Pieces of the shattered teapot littered the table, the two cups he had been filling had been over-turned but miraculously both were still in one piece. The tea was everywhere. Some of it had been caught by the tray, but most of it lay in puddles on the table that ran to the edges and dripped on to the carpet. Yuuri’s eyes widened in horror and he quickly fell to his knees. His hands hovered frantically over the mess, wanting desperately to clean it up but not having any means of doing so. Realizing there was nothing he could do he turned towards Master Giacometti and bowed so low his forehead almost touched the floor.

“I-I sorry! I… I no mean… I clean-“

“Yuuri, Yuuri it’s okay,” Master Giacometti said gently as he knelt beside him, Yuuri chanced a glance up. He didn’t _look_ angry, in fact he looked rather concerned. Yuuri stared at him for a moment before slowly sitting back up.

“Let me see your hands.”

Yuuri blinked in confusion before looking down at his hands, he suppressed a wince when he saw the numerous, angry red splotches that had bloomed all over his hands. Now that he was paying attention to it he could start to feel the pain setting in.

“Here,” a voice said to his right. 

Yuuri looked over and felt his breath catch in his throat. Lord Nikiforov was kneeling beside him, arms outstretched towards him as he reached for Yuuri’s hands with a towel. When had he gone to get that? Yuuri sat frozen in place as Lord Nikiforov took his hands and very gently began to pat them dry, taking care not to let the towel rub against the mild burns. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get out of there, to jump to his feet and flee from the room, but Yuuri couldn’t move. He watched silently as Lord Nikiforov tended to his hands, feeling his cheeks grow warm at the almost tender gesture and quickly lowering his head before either man could notice. What was wrong with him? Why was he getting so flustered over something so simple? He needed to get a grip After a minute or so Lord Nikiforov pulled the towel away, he studied Yuuri’s hands a moment before giving them a nod of approval.

“That should do it,” he said.

Silently praying his face had returned to its normal color he slowly lifted his head. He looked first at his hands—they were still red and splotchy and prickled uncomfortably—before lifting his gaze fully to meet the striking blue Lord Nikiforov’s. Yuuri had been amazed by these eyes the first time he had seen them, so bring they shone even in a room lit only by moonlight. How was it possible for someone to have such eyes? Belatedly, Yuuri realized he was staring but he couldn’t bring himself to look away, and Lord Nikiforov didn’t seem to be in any hurry to avert his gaze either. He was almost as close to the man as he had been that night in Lord Leroy’s manor, a fact he only became aware of when Lord Nikiforov narrowed his eyes in thought and leaned a little closed to him. Yuuri was momentarily puzzled before his nerves from earlier turned to full blow panic as he realized what was happening. _Lord Nikiforov recognized him!_ He was looking at Yuuri in a way you looked at someone you thought you had seen before but couldn’t think where. Instincts kicking in he stood before he could stop himself, startling both men and nearly knocking Lord Nikiforov over in the process.

“Yuuri, what’s gotten into you?” Master Giacometti asked.

Yuuri looked over at him, at the look of surprise and confusion he was giving him. His mask had slipped. He knew his panic was clear as day on his face, but he didn’t know what to do about it. His mind had gone completely blank as he tried to think of something, anything he could say to explain his behavior, but really what could he say? Finally, he did the first thing that eventually came to mind and lowered himself into a deep bow, his eyes closed tightly.

“G-Gomenesai.”

He didn’t correct himself, not trusting himself to use English at the moment—not even his feigned broken version. The chance of him babbling and giving himself away was far too great. The silence that followed was almost deafening, Yuuri desperately wanted to get out of there, but he didn’t dare move, not until he was told to do so. Finally, after what felt like an eternity Master Giacometti spoke, but he didn’t address Yuuri.

“Phichit, would you take him please?”

Yuuri opened his eyes and looked up. Still bowed he followed Master Giacometti’s gaze towards the doorway where Phichit was standing, how long had he been standing there? Phichit nodded and made his way over, his concerned eyes fixed on Yuuri. Yuuri straightened as Phichit reached him and took a gentle hold of his arm.

“Come on Yuuri,” he said.

“Take care of his hands,” Master Giacometti said. “And send someone to clean this up.”

Phichit nodded. “Yes sir.”

He gave Yuuri’s arm a small tug, urging him to come along, Yuuri followed without a fuss. Yuuri lowered his head and didn’t dare look back as him and Phichit made their way to the door and out of the room. Neither of them said a word as they walked, but Yuuri could feel Phichit’s eyes on him and knew the younger man was likely dying to ask him what had happened. Phichit led him to the servant’s wing and to their room, motioning for Yuuri to sit on his bed once they were there.

“Wait there,” he said once Yuuri was seated then quickly disappeared from the room.

Yuuri stared down at his knees, the scene of what had just happened replaying in his mind. He had really messed up this time, how was he going to explain his actions? He supposed he could blame it on nerves. Master Giacometti had purposely kept him from serving guests, believing Yuuri to get nervous around new people exactly as Yuuri wanted so it wasn’t a completely unfeasible idea. But then what about Lord Nikiforov? He hadn’t fully recognized him yet, but if he thought Yuuri looked familiar then it was only a matter of time before he put two and two together. And when that happened…

Phichit returned just then, some bandages and a dark green bottle in his hands. He dragged a chair over and settled himself in front of Yuuri.

“Let me see your hands.”

“Phichit I’m fine, you don’t have to-“

“Hands,” Phichit said firmly, Yuuri sighed.

“At least use some of my stuff,” he said as he wrinkled his nose at the bottle Phichit was holding.

Phichit set the bottle aside then stood and wend over to their closet. He knelt down, moved some thing around, and when he stood again he had a small, locked wooden box in his hands. Crossing back over he set the box on the bed, taking the key Yuuri was holding out and opening it. Inside the box was an assortment of glass vials, bottles, and jars, the contents of which Yuuri had made sure Phichit was only vaguely aware of. Phichit removed the jar Yuuri pointed to and opened it to reveal a lumpy, dark green substance. It was Phichit’s turn to wrinkle his nose.

“What is this stuff?”

“Better than whatever you were about to use.”

Phichit rolled his eyes before scooping a small amount of the homemade salve from the jar and carefully applying it to one of Yuuri’s hands.

“I still can’t believe you make all this stuff yourself.”

Yuuri shrugged. “I had to do something to keep myself occupied at home. And it was a useful skill to learn so…” He trailed off as a pang of sadness settled in his chest, it always hurt to think of home. Phichit paused and glanced at him before returning to his task. Satisfied he had applied enough of the salve he set the jar aside then picked up one of the bandages and began wrapping Yuui’s hand.

“So what happened?” Phichit asked as he finished with that hand and moved on to the other. “You seemed pretty worked up back there.”

Yuuri went rigid, causing Phichit to look at him. Thinking of home had made him momentarily forget about what had happened, but the memory suddenly came rushing back. He saw Lord Nikiforov’s eyes, narrowed in confusion as he tried to remember where he had seen Yuuri before. His panic from before returned full force and without warning his sprang to his feet, nearly knocking Phichit out of his chair and began pacing.

“Yuuri! What-“

“You were wrong Phichit.”

Phichit blinked. “Huh?”

“He just kept… _staring_ at me. No matter what I did I could feel his eyes on me. And then the tea, and he insisted on drying my hands, and his eyes. Those… obnoxiously blue eyes, who has eyes like that?! They just kept staring, and I could see it. I could see it in those stupid, bright blue eyes.”

“Yuuri slow down, you’re not making any sense.”

“ _He recognized me._ He kept staring at me because he was trying to remember where he had seen me before. If he’d had a few more minutes he probably would have figured it out.”

He slumped back onto the bed and covered his face with his hands, his glasses pressing into his face as he fought back the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Crying was the last thing he needed to be doing. He needed a plan, something to get him out of this mess he had created for himself, but his mind was such a jumbled mess of thoughts he couldn’t think straight. _Why_ hadn’t he just left Lord Leroy’s manor when he realized it was full of people? All of this could have been avoided if he had just been patient and waited for another night, but he hadn’t wanted to go back so he decided to take the risk. Now he was paying for that decision. Phichit watched him a moment then reached out and took the hand he had been bandaging before Yuuri had suddenly jumped up and pulled it towards him.

“You said he didn’t completely recognize you right?” he asked as he worked at the bandage again. Yuri lowered his other hand and nodded.

“Yeah… I could see it in the way he looked at me. Like I looked familiar, but he couldn’t place me.”

“Well then the answer is simple. You don’t give him the chance.”

Yuri tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I still say what he was able to see of you that night will make it harder for him to recognize you. So, if you don’t let him get close enough to get a good look at you then you should be fine.”

“And just how do you propose I do that? You said yourself that Lord Nikiforov is here more than anywhere else.”

“It’s a big manor. And he and Master Giacometti tend to spend their visits either in the sitting room or on the far side of the garden if the weather is nice.”

Yuuri let out a sigh, he supposed he really didn’t have a choice. He was certain that if Lord Nikiforov got a good enough look at him he would be found out, he couldn’t let that happen no matter what. Not when he was so close to his goal. And Phichit was right, it _was_ a big manor, how hard could it be to avoid once person?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Nanishiteruno- "What are you doing?" (Courtesy of Google translate so forgive me if it's not correct)
> 
> Aaand there you have it! What did you all think? Bit more going's on, bit more drama, poor Yuuri needs a hug. XD
> 
> Comments and feedback are always appreciated! ^.^

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it. Not a lot happening yet, and I will admit it takes a little bit for things to really get going, but please be patient because I promise it will be worth it!
> 
> A little note about the way JJ is addressed. My partner pointed out to me that since Victor is addressed as Lord Nikiforov then JJ would be the same and be Lord Leroy, and she is absolutely right! However I wrote it as Lord Jean first without thinking about it and frankly think it sounds better than Lord Leroy so we'll just say it's something he insist on. XD (He won't be in this again so it really doesn't matter)
> 
> As I said in the beginning notes I will be releasing the chapters gradually as I get them edited, but can't guarantee on how often. Will do my best to not take forever.


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